Under a Trillion Stars
by Suzie's Q
Summary: He had always dreamed of seeing her in her white dress, beaming at him from the other side of the room. She'd look beautiful, and he wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her, his best friend, the girl he'd loved for years, silently and happily. But this white dress was not for him. Lily was getting married. And it wasn't to him.
1. Chapter 1

I would like to thank Emily (Glisseo on here) for her encouragement and friendship, for staying up until all hours of the morning discussing this fic with me until I could wrap my head around it, and for definitely giving my arse the kick it needed to get me going. Without her constant help and feedback, (and badgering me to actually write) I would never have gotten this done.

I've aimed to approach this AU as if everything would be the same, except there's one minor detail changed, but there does lead to a different chain of events eventually, and things that are already canon tend to happen at a different time, usually earlier. That's really the only info on the AU you need. Timeline isn't the same, but events are.

Happy reading!

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**One**

"James, I am not having this argument with you again," Lily said reproachfully, scowling over at him. He pouted back at her, shoving his hands in his pockets – he was always forgetting to bring gloves – and kicking the snow as they walked.

"I'm not arguing!" he protested immediately, rolling his eyes.

"You are being argumentative," she told him, her voice clipped.

"Am not," he retorted childishly. "It's not an argument if your side is stupid." She groaned, shaking her head, and didn't answer him.

He glanced over his shoulder furtively, frowning down at their footprints. Lily was quiet for a few seconds, her lips pursed and her silence stony. James was just about to groan and complain that she was too easily pissed off when she looked over at him.

"Relax," she told him quietly. "It's a week before Christmas, they're not going to be around here."

James shrugged his shoulders, inwardly rolling his eyes again. "Oh yeah, you're right," he said, his tone falsely cheery. "I'm sure they're all enjoying Voldemort's Christmas party. I was dead gutted I didn't get an invite, but those are the breaks, I suppose."

Her expression weakened and she threw him a reproachful look, sighing in exasperation. "Would you shut up, that's not funny."

"Exactly." James jumped on the point, narrowing his eyes at her. "It's not funny at all. And still, he knows nothing."

"And it's going to stay that way, I don't need to drag him into it."

"Lily, trying to maintain a relationship with this bloke is dragging him into it," he pointed out, his tone flat.

"It's not!" she protested. Her cheeks blotched and reddened, and despite his irritation, he felt a familiar blow to the chest at the sight. He looked away dejectedly, and was furious at himself to find he was fighting a smile. Of course, he couldn't blame her – she wasn't in charge of when she blushed, or of how beautiful she looked – but he still felt a resentment towards her, and wished desperately that she could turn it off.

"He doesn't need to know a thing," Lily said again, her jaw set.

"Yes, he does!" James retorted hotly, scowling. "First of all, you could leave and never come home any day now. You could get both yourself _and _Bill killed –"

"It's Will, and you know that," she snapped, a familiar tone of exasperation dripping from her voice.

"Right, whatever," he said quickly, fighting back his smirk. "My point is, you can't keep him in the dark. It's a massive part of your life, he barely knows you at all."

"Oh, don't start this again," she whined, whacking his arm.

"And think about it," he went on. "I'm your best friend, and I don't even know him. I've never even met him!"

"Yes, you have," she replied monotonously, staring at him blankly.

"You're out of your mind," he told her venomously. "You're putting him in danger, and he's no help to you. You need someone – someone who knows what's going on, someone who can go through it with you."

He bit his lip and fell silent abruptly, and after he was silent for a few seconds, he felt her eyes on him, her gaze intensifying as the seconds wore on.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Someone who understands. Someone who actually knows you."

He expected an instant rebuttal – '_Of course Will knows me! We've been together a whole year!' – _and he would dejectedly tell her that she was hiding herself away from him, and lying to him was doing no good if it got him killed. No matter how much Will had to answer to James for, it seemed like the best way to bring it up.

"And –" Lily paused, giving a little cough and nestling the toe of her boot in the snow. "Do you actually know someone like that?"

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from answering that one. He met her gaze, his chest tightening uncomfortably, and gulped audibly.

She continued to stare at him, cool, unperturbed. "What do you suggest I do? Tell him? Induct him?"

"No!" James burst out, flinching away from her condescending tone. "No, of course not. _Christ, _no."

"Then what, James?" she snapped, weary with frustration. "_What?" _

He was silent for a few seconds, vaguely aware that she was practically encouraging him to tell her what he'd been trying to tell her without words for months now. She was almost asking him to just come right out and say it so that they could both stop pretending. Before he'd opened his mouth, a vision had half-formed in his mind of her smiling at him, her cheeks going pink in that way that drove him crazy, and she'd laugh and throw her arms around him, and her pink nose would be cold when he kissed her . . .

He pushed the thought away, his stomach twisting, and forced himself to shrug, unable to fabricate any other response. She gazed at him for a few seconds, her mouth disappearing into a thin, almost indiscernible line, and then sighed. If James was generous to himself and his own wild imagination, he thought it sounded bitter.

"Right," she muttered, pulling on loose threads of her scarf. He frowned over at her – that was her favourite scarf, and he knew that because he'd bought it for her two Christmases ago – and nudged his elbow off hers gently.

"Sorry," he lied, his voice small. "I just think it's a bad idea to try and keep this going. The Order takes up so much time. I just – I couldn't do it if it were me."

She nodded, staring at her feet as they shuffled slowly through the snow. "What, lie to someone like that?" she muttered glumly.

He blinked across at her. "No," he muttered truthfully. "I couldn't have you lie to me like that . . . And stick around."

They'd reached her flat; she hurried up the steps and he followed, slow and reluctant. She slipped on the top step, since the snow had melted on them by now, or been washed away, and instinctively he caught her elbow.

He also caught her confused expression when he retracted his hand as if she'd burned him, but he focused his attention on her doorbell, the little button hanging slightly on its spring.

She tried for a weak, apologetic smile. "Well, I guess that's why I'm with him instead of you," she said jokingly, poking his side. He didn't even bother smiling.

"Yeah," he croaked. He took a deep breath and threw her a fresh smile. "Well, tell Walter I said – actually, no, scratch that."

"It's _Will," _she whined, but she was smiling as she pulled him into a tight hug. He knew he should have, but he didn't try to stop her. He wasn't that strong, not when it came to Lily.

"I'll see you at the meeting, okay?" he told her, patting her back. It took all his concentration to stop himself from smelling her hair, kissing the top of her head, even turning his head so he could kiss her.

She nodded, grinned at him, and quickly escaped inside from the cold. He stood there for a few seconds longer, staring at her front door. The knocker was rusted, the red paint was peeling and flecking. He smiled fondly at the sight, so unbearably _Lily, _but it quickly faded when he realized that this was the door that she shared with _Will _(and he knew the bloke's name, as if he could ever forget), and he wasn't Will.

After a little while, he realized that it would have been odd for someone to spot him staring blankly at a closed front door, so with a heavy sigh he hurried back down the steps and around the corner, where he disappeared on the spot, reappearing outside his own apartment.

His key got jammed in the door – _again – _and he eventually forced it in properly and let himself in, the whole while grumbling about anti-unlocking charms. He was greeted with the strong smell of chips wafting in from the kitchen.

He still felt winded from his conversation with Lily, and the smell made his stomach turn over, but he hadn't had hot food all day, so he trudged into the kitchen where Sirius and Remus were sitting at the table, Peter was leaning against the wall, and Sirius' girlfriend Emma was sitting on the counter. He kicked out the chair and flopped into it with a loud, tired groan.

"I take it she's still seeing that mindless git, then?" Sirius said cheerfully, raising one eyebrow at James.

James scowled at him murderously, taking a chip from the bag, which was ripped open on the table. "It would appear so," he grumbled. "You know, my key's still not working."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Your key's fine," he said coolly. "It's _you _who's backward, mate."

James kicked him under the table, glaring. "I'm _not_," he protested in a weak voice, lunging for another chip again before Peter could swipe up the last few with his fat little fist.

"You clearly are," Sirius replied, in his haughtiest authoritative voice, displaying a rare sign of his upbringing, which he usually denounced in every way he could. James sometimes forgot that Sirius was brought up a lot like him, even of a higher class maybe, since Sirius acted - very aptly - like a dog most of the time. "Pining after a girl who wants nothing to do with you, it's -"

Before Sirius could tell him exactly what it was, James had cut across him, spluttering with indignation. "Nothing to do with me?" he repeated. "I'm her best friend!"

Sirius just rolled his eyes. "Yes, congratulations. A fine achievement," he retorted, his thin mouth curving into a smirk. "Or at least, it would be, if you weren't so hopelessly in love with her. Anyway, as I was telling you," he went on. "It's bloody pathetic."

"I'm just..." James struggled to explain, tilting his chair back on its hind legs and resting his feet on the last vacant chair.

"Still waiting," Remus supplied, looking up from his cup of tea to glance at James thoughtfully. James looked up at him, reluctant to affirm that, and after a few seconds silence, Sirius gave a loud snort.

"For what?"

James didn't want to answer that either; with a heavy sigh, he got to his feet to make himself a coffee or scrounge something from whatever was left in their cupboards, but as he did, he had to admit it to himself, Sirius had a point.

XXX

The small townhouse where the Order meetings were held was desolate and - in James' opinion - uninhabitable at best of times. But Emmeline Vance, who had inherited the house from her great-aunt, and who chose to live in the city in a fashionable apartment, had done her best to dress it up for the festive season, though there had only been so much she could do, and she hadn't been able to obscure the fact that the house was dingy and run-down and just plain cold, and it still smelled quite strongly of rubbery, burnt eggs.

There were lines of tinsel hanging from the ceiling, there were wreaths of holly and berries and mistletoe over the doors and on the walls, and crammed into the already tiny hallway was a small, slightly wilting Christmas tree, and as he trudged through the cramped hallway with his friends, he couldn't help but feel touched, and have to swallow a lump in his throat, when he saw that Emmeline had placed a decoration on the tree for every member of the Order of the Phoenix, almost as if to ward off danger and evil.

The four boys managed to shuffle and push their way through to the slightly less gloomy kitchen. The advantage of the kitchen was that, even though it was still unpleasant and damp and impossible to reside in, it was quite large, and the long table in the middle was generally large enough to accommodate all the members. It had become very rare to have every single member in attendance, and even when there was a swell in new members, it was always balanced out by the depletion of their old members.

In one way, it kept that thought in their minds. The fact that there was never no room left, there was more often than not a seat left over, and next week there was a great chance that there could be ten seats left over.

Lily was already there, and had snagged seats for them at the far end of the table. It was their favourite place, because it left them near to the door, so that on hotter days, they would get the most out of the cool breeze when it was left open, and it was also positioned a convenient distance to the cupboard beside the fridge. This was the one cupboard that they had deemed clean enough to store food in (the rest had all sorts of fungi and growing mold), so Emmeline had piled it with biscuits and chocolates and things to hold Order members over until they went home for dinner.

She saw him and instantly turned from her conversation (James never bothered to find out who she'd been speaking to) and beckoned him over. His heart leaped into his throat at the very sight of her smile, and as he made his way over to her, he wondered whether it was possible for him to have fallen for her even more in the two days they'd been apart.

"You know you left your wallet at mine again?" she said as he sat down. She had already poured him some pumpkin juice, and she nudged the glass in his direction. He saw Sirius roll his eyes at the sight of them before he turned away, but James didn't care. Like always, there was very little he cared about once Lily began speaking.

He raked his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. "I know, I know, I can never hang onto it," he grumbled.

She laughed and leaned forward, fiddling with his collar. "Well, maybe if we sew it onto your shirt you might remember," she said cheerfully. He went stiff, and his shoulders hunched lightly. She prodded at the breast pocket of his shirt, and played with the untied buttons, still laughing. "Maybe here, or here..." He just looked at her, ignoring the dreadfully wonderful sensation of tingles running up his spine at her touch, and after a few seconds, managed a weak laugh and batted her hand away.

"Very funny, Evans," he grumbled, making a show out of dramatically rolling his eyes.

"One of my many talents."

He opened his mouth to retort, but the meeting was called to Order by the soft thumping noise of a peg-leg stumping off the ground on every second step. Mad-Eye Moody stood at the edge of the table, his expression perpetually grim and suspicious, and leaned forward, ignoring the seat that stood behind him. James hadn't quite gotten over the shock and irrepressible disgust at the sight of Moody's newly mangled nose, only half of which still remained after a particularly nasty duel with Evan Rosier, who had been killed in the action.

Moody's real eye was narrowed at them, and he kept twitching and glancing over his shoulders. James wondered if he should also have been on the lookout for Death Eaters jumping out of the closets and cupboards, but he settled into his chair and relaxed his face to mask his revulsion, poking Lily's side as he leaned back.

Lily looked over her shoulder to scowl at him playfully before whirling back around, her faint, floral scent hitting him like a blow to the chest when her hair flipped.

Mad-Eye began speaking - it was usually him who led the Order meetings nowadays, and no one questioned it, not when Doc and his sister Leslie had reported on how snowed under Dumbledore was with work - and began handing out jobs that had to be done, his Scottish accent completely lost in his gruff and surly mutter.

He turned to James after about twenty minutes. "Potter," he barked. "That house needs watching, and Podmore's gone and got himself poisoned from some ruddy plant, can you take it tomorrow night?"

James nodded immediately, and Moody returned the nod, surveying him. James thought - or hoped - that Moody liked him, about as much as Moody liked anyone, which was not much.

"Black, you're already tailing - "

"The Lestranges, yes," Sirius cut across him in a bored voice, examining his nails. "My dear cousin and her charming husband."

Moody glared at him for interrupting, but didn't have the time to address it. "Right. Evans, you're with him," he went on, with a jerk of his head in James' direction. Lily didn't move. "That alright?" Moody demanded, eyeing her curiously.

Lily bit her lip but after a few seconds, she let out a deep sigh, and nodded. James felt his blood boil, and his fists clenched at the conflicted look on her face because he _knew _somehow that she must have had plans with _Will, _and it was very hard to get Will to change his plans, or do anything outside of his precious routine. James couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes.

When she turned over her shoulder again to offer him a small smile, he couldn't return it; he simply blinked at her for a second, before looking back up at Moody with a blank expression.

The rest of the meeting passed without much of a stir. Towards the end, Mad-Eye nearly jumped out of his peg leg when the door creaked. The atmosphere in the room immediately lulled to a cautious dread when the tall figure of Albus Dumbledore emerged from the shadow, but he was wearing a genial smile, and beckoned for his companion to follow him in.

"Good evening, everyone," he said cheerfully, conjuring himself a lavish, plush armchair and settling in it comfortably. "I trust you're all enjoying the holidays."

There were a few mumbles of assent, the occasional growl from the more contrary members of the Order. "Albus, can I get you a cup of tea?" Emmeline offered. He'd been in the Order for over a year - having chosen it over pursuing a career in professional Quidditch after a whole season on a trial contract, something over which Lily constantly berated him - and he still wasn't used to hearing Professor Dumbledore, or any teacher for that matter, addressed by their full names.

Lily had brought it up several times, especially at the start. She'd been working in an apothecary when they left school, and she'd met Will when they were only three months out of school, just as summer was ending, and just when James was beginning his season with the Arrows. Almost a year to that day, James made up his mind.

He told himself that the fact that Lily had joined a month earlier hadn't influenced his decision. But he rarely believed himself.

"Some water would be fine, Emmeline," Dumbledore replied, in that peculiar calm tone that always confused James. He expected more urgency from a leader of such a dangerous organization. But Dumbledore made it seem like they were merely participating in a rather dreary book club.

"Everyone, this is Benjamin Fenwick," he announced then, waving his hand towards the man loitering uncertainly in the doorway. Upon closer inspection, James realized that this was not a man at all. This was a boy - he was stocky and very broad, and quite tall too, but a boy nonetheless. He had a boyish, innocent face, and a roguish grin that reminded James of his own, or what had been his own a few years ago. His eyes sparkled with excitement and fascination.

James swallowed a lump in his throat, for some reason finding it uncomfortable to look at Benjamin for too long. He looked back at Lily, and saw his expression mirrored on her face.

"He is our newest member, and a talented young man," Dumbledore went on. "He was keen to come - just in time for your picture, correct, Emmeline?"

Emmeline nodded, smiling encouragingly at Benjy. Lily turned slightly in her seat and shook her head. "Just in time for Christmas," she muttered grimly. "Seems a strange time to put your life in mortal danger, doesn't it?"

James gave a little twitch in response, which was about all he could do. Greetings were given and welcomes made, and Moody seemed to have finished up, as he had slouched back quite grumpily in his chair. Emmeline had started bustling around to get people to their feet, haphazardly waving a camera in the air and only very narrowly avoiding several noses.

Eventually, the motley group was arranged at the end of the kitchen on the opposite side of the table. James fidgeted and raked his fingers through his hair, uncomfortable in front of the camera, especially when it struck him that there were several members less than there had been this time last year. Lily, standing at his shoulder, laughed at the pained expression on his face, and just as the camera clicked she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a slobbery, wet kiss to his cheek.

James whined and glared as he wiped his cheek, feeling his stomach twist at the idea of that little, normal interaction being forever recorded in ink and paper. His heart had begun to race, but it was quickly stunted when he saw Sirius pretend to vomit, and look vaguely disgusted. He also looked confused, and exasperated, and James knew why. He _was _almost sick to his stomach of their antics. He was still waiting for James to quit her.

Just as they're about to go, Emmeline calls everyone to attention to tell them she'll be hosting a small get together to celebrate New Years at her flat - James' heart leaps into his throat, because New Years means _midnight _and fantasies are half-formed in his mind before he has to remind himself that Lily had a _boyfriend, _how on earth did that ever escape him? - and they burst. He deflated, looking back to find her wearing that same look of conflict and confusion.

He forced a small smile. "What is it? Does Wayne plan on dragging you to his office party?" He hadn't intended to, but the question did come across as mocking, and once he'd heard it from his own mouth, he was surprised at Lily's lack of reaction.

"What? Oh," she murmured, blinking at him. "Yes, yes he does."

He nodded, swallowing the bitter taste on his tongue. "I'd better go, we're heading to the pub." She nodded and smiled, and he held his breath when he hugged her, so that he'd find the strength to let her go again.

XXX

They had been hanging around the house for about two hours now, hidden under James' Invisibility Cloak and parked up against a wall, sitting on the ground. Lily was shivering slightly, even though they were cuddled together.

"Blimey, what are they _expecting?" _she hissed. "I'm freezing!"

He shushed her, chuckling and rolling his eyes. "Stop complaining," he muttered, his eyes on the door of the oddly formidable looking house. He fought back a yawn, flexing his fingers that were resting on her far shoulder, just to see if he could still feel them.

Lily seemed to notice. "Wouldn't happen if you brought gloves," she pointed out, raising one eyebrow at him.

"Well, I keep losing them," he retorted.

"And I keep buying you more," she replied, feigning her utmost disappointment.

"Speaking of which," James said conversationally, grinning at her. "Finished your Christmas shopping?"

"With five days to go? I should certainly hope so," she told him, her teeth chattering slightly, and even though his brain was screaming at him not to respond, not a single cell in his body was listening, and he pulled her a little closer to him, chafing her arm.

"Your sister?"

"I sent it," she said immediately, her voice dropping a bit. "And Dudley's."

"How old is he now?" he asked her, blinking down at her. She didn't look upset or distraught; if anything, she looked pensive, and a little wistful.

"Oh, um, six months. Almost exactly," she told him, nodding. "So have you finished your shopping?"

He nodded, and usually he would have elaborated, and she would have badgered him about what he got her and they would have teased each other until she started getting, but he would have laughed and said nothing. But he didn't bother.

He stared at the door a little longer, until he could feel her gaze on him, burning his skin just as effectively as if hot flecks of ash were falling on it. "You alright?" she asked him eventually, prodding his arm. "You're quiet."

He nodded again and cleared his throat, frowning as he struggled to verbalize his thoughts for her. "I ... Did you see the new guy last night?"

She nodded, looking more and more perplexed. "Yeah. Benjamin."

"He just . . ." James shook his head. "Seemed so young, didn't he? I mean, I thought _I _was young, I still feel like a kid, and then he walks in . . . I feel old."

Lily blinked at him, and though she did well hiding it, she was stunned. After she'd recovered, she smiled at him, peering at him. "Mmm, I do see one or two crows' feet," she murmured thoughtfully.

He rolled his eyes, but he felt a pang in his chest, and for a second he thought that, if it were even possible, he was falling even more in love with her. "Shut up, I'm being serious." Lily giggled, and mimed zipping her lips shut obediently.

"Go on, bear your soul," she encouraged, and to her credit, she kept her patronizing tone to a minimum.

He rolled his eyes, but he kept going. "I feel old," he said again. "Like . . . spent. Running out of time."

She raised one eyebrow. "I can't tell whether it's Mad-Eye or Dumbledore you've been listening to too much," she muttered, eyeing him suspiciously. His cheeks flamed and he looked the other way, as Lily glanced at her battered wristwatch. "Here, Doe's going to be here any minute. Shall we go?"

"And let something happen in the three minutes it goes unmonitored?"

She rolled her eyes and got to her feet, and since they were under the Invisibility Cloak, she effectively pulled him up too. "Can you drop me home?"

"Can you learn to Apparate?" he retorted, sniggering. Lily had failed her test. Twice. She just glared at him, folding her arms, and James quickly wiped the smirk from his face.

"Alright, alright," he conceded, holding out his arm. She took it - and he ignored the tingles it sent shooting through him - and he turned on the spot, and the two of them materialized outside her flat.

"Are you coming up?" she asked. He nodded, and she led him upstairs, occasionally making an odd comment or sarcastic remark. She'd only opened the door when the pair were greeted with thunderous shouts and raucous cheers, so overpowering James felt like a force was trying to push him backwards.

It appeared that someone - he had already been trying to come up with a wrong name to call Will - had attempted to cram every person they'd ever talked to into the flat.

Will - a tall enough, blond man, with plain blue eyes and a typical face, in James' opinion utterly revolting - was standing at the front of this gathered crowd. Among the crowd were what seemed to be all of Will's friends, along with his family, and an odd member of Lily's family too. There were people from Lily's job, and from Will's, and Lily's school friends. Even an Order member or two had managed to snake in.

There was obnoxious music playing in the background, and James was surprised Lily didn't immediately demand that someone remove the record from her flat immediately, because he knew she hardly cared for the song.

Upon closer inspection, James' heart began to thud in his chest. There was finger food - chicken of all things, he knew Lily wouldn't eat it - and there were roses everywhere. This sent his mind spiraling, firstly because he wasn't an idiot, and he happened to know that roses were a romantic gesture, and secondly, because he knew that Lily thought they were tacky and unoriginal. She was hard to please. Even with his head reeling, he had time to appreciate that little gem about her.

And then - possibly sending James' heart into overload, and he wondered if he'd gone into cardiac arrest - he saw as if in slow motion Will drop to one knee. Lily went white, and James resisted the urge to vomit.

He stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, feeling his stomach plummet and hearing his heart thudding so loudly in his own ears he was sure that he would collapse any second. Will reached for Lily's hand.

This was wrong. This was all wrong. This was impossible. He glanced around again, as if to assure himself that all the people and the roses and the godforsaken _chicken _was still there. It was. And it was wrong. Lily didn't like chicken, she hated roses, and if this was actually happening - he refused to believe it was happening - James knew that she _certainly _wouldn't have wanted all those people around. She was private, and this was meant to be an intimate moment.

Not one witnessed by every person she'd ever met, including her best friend who was hopelessly in love with her. James barely heard Will speak, but he did manage to register that he _had _begun speaking, and when he'd finished, it provoked a few 'awws' from the girls in their little _audience, _and he pulled out a - James turned away then, so sick to his stomach he could hardly stand up straight.

"Your birthstone. Emerald. Matches your eyes."

Somehow, that had gotten through to James, and he really did think he was going to puke that time. He gagged, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself to relax. His breathing was rapid and he was panicking, utterly panicking, because this could not, this just couldn't be happening, not when he was right there, not when Lily so completely belonged with him and he was so sure of that fact. Not when she should have been with him, and it should have been _him _proposing to her, and this _simply could not be happening. _

He forced his eyes open again and stared at Lily, sending her silent pleas, willing her, begging her to understand and do what was right, tell him _no, _because Will could never make her as happy as he could.

Lily's face was blank. She seemed to be in shock, but it wasn't a violent, powerful shock that left her nauseated and weak, like it had James.

She just looked lost for words.

And then, she took a deep breath, and seemed to find one when she opened her mouth, just one.

"Yes."

* * *

Thanks for reading, reviews are appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

You know the drill, I don't own Harry Potter. Thank you to Emily, you beour, I'd never do anything without you. And also thanks to my wonderful new beta, Dee (bobandsmallbob on tumblr), for being so wonderful and stopping me from being so stupid. I would apologize for the long wait, but it would be too painful.

* * *

**Two**

The storm raging inside him was nothing to the one that beat relentlessly against the windows, and unlike the one outside, he could not escape this one by ducking inside to the warm refuge of his home, where the roaring fire and warm food awaited him.

It hadn't even been twenty-four hours since that prat had put a ring on Lily's finger, his Lily's finger. And it felt like he'd aged a hundred years since. The minute he'd caught Lily's eye, saw the smile on her face and watched it fade slightly as she caught sight of him, he had turned on his heel and ran. He hadn't been home all night.

He was soaked to the bone, his clothes hanging off him and his hair plastered to his face, and he could barely see through his glasses, but he had given up trying to wipe the rain off them. For a start, it had rained so heavily, it only lasted a fraction of a second, and his sleeve was so drenched that it only made it worse.

Eventually, he trudged home, though not by any conscious effort. It had grown dark again; it must have been evening by the time he stumbled in the door. Warmth enveloped and welcomed him, but James had to fight the urge to wheel around and stalk back into the rain again. He didn't want to feel warm; he wanted to stay out in the cold and merciless storm, where he could drown himself in his misery if he tried hard enough.

The atmosphere in the apartment was already subdued – for a second, James thought they had already heard, and had begun to share in his woes before he arrived – but then he caught sight of Remus' face.

He was sitting in the window seat, staring out at the torrential rain. He looked washed out, his face pale and drawn. Sirius was dozing lightly, sprawled out over the couch. Peter was nowhere to be seen, but he could hear the shower going.

"What –" he began, but cut himself off as it hit him. "Well?" he demanded of the two boys, who jerked and sat upright as if they had only noticed him. "Did it work?"

Sirius rubbed his eyes, and then his face, and then shook out his hair, just the way a dog does. He yawned widely and looked up at James, his sleepy expression becoming an angry one.

"Where the hell have you been?" he yelped, jumping to his feet. "All bloody night, we didn't know _what _had happened, I was this close to contacting Moody, and you know he'd cut my balls off if I bothered him over _nothing –" _

It seemed like Sirius was intent on rambling on for a little longer, so James groaned and pushed past him to the kitchen, yanking the fridge open and inspecting its contents. Sirius was hot on his heels, words spewing from his mouth without so much as a pause for breath, but by now it was just white noise.

He whined again to shut Sirius up as he dropped into the nearest seat, having found nothing edible in the fridge, running a hand through his drenched hair.

"Prongs, where the fuck were you?" Sirius demanded, glaring at him now. "You could have gotten killed, you could have gotten _me _killed because I'm stupid enough to go looking for you - "

James rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright," he grumbled defensively. "I went for a walk."

There was a few beats silence, before the explosion. "You've been gone a day and a half, and you come back here and tell me you went for a _walk?" _he yelled, staring at his best friend. "The nerve of – I could kill you, Potter –"

Surprising himself, James managed a weak chuckle. "Since when have you started acting like my wife?" he asked coolly, raising one eyebrow.

Sirius didn't really _blush _on principle, but his pale cheeks tinged pink. "Very funny," he retorted. "You know it's too dangerous nowadays to be wandering around – and there's only more and more disappearances, you can't just go off like that and not _tell _anybody. I called Lily," he said emphatically, as if that proved a point.

James flinched. "Tell me you didn't."

Sirius either didn't hear him, or chose to ignore him. "Seriously, Prongs, where the fuck were you?"

James scrutinized him for a minute, eyes narrowed. "You used to be fun," he said eventually, shaking his head.

Sirius glowered. "Just answer the fucking question, we were freaking out over here," he snapped, rolling his eyes.

"You didn't answer my question," James pointed out, tilting his chair back on its hind legs and planting his muddy, grimy boots on the table.

"Well, you didn't answer mine."

Sirius folded his arms and raised one eyebrow, staring at James coldly. It was quiet for a few seconds, while they stared each other down. Eventually, James got to his feet.

"Fine," he snapped. "Do we have any alcohol?"

Sirius blanched, confusion flashing across his face. "Er – there's some vodka left over from a few weeks ago..." he said slowly, eyeing James with a now cautious expression.

"Good." James rummaged in the cupboards until he found it, and after pouring himself a generous amount, he turned to Sirius and gestured for him to start. "You first."

Sirius blinked at him for a second and sighed, rolling his eyes. "Well, it's all sort of dodgy business, this Wolfsbane thing. We're still not sure it's foolproof. But we think it worked. He said it tasted awful, but he could remember the night, and he didn't seem all that dangerous. We're going to try sweetening it or something next time."

James nodded, digesting this. It was on the tip of the tongue to say that he'd ask Lily about adding sweeteners to potions, because if anyone would know, she would. But he bit his tongue before he could speak, drowning the bitter taste in his mouth with more alcohol.

"You would have known how the bloody thing worked if you'd been here," Sirius pointed out, still looking at James expectantly. "Come on, mate, where were you?"

He took a long time before answering, staring into the depths of his glass. "She's getting married," he croaked eventually. He couldn't bring himself to look up at Sirius, who hadn't reacted at all. He looked the other way, just as Sirius began to splutter with utter bewilderment.

James cut across him, unable to stand it any longer. "I brought her home yesterday, and he proposed. In front of everyone."

Sirius didn't really look surprised. He was looking at James with a curious expression; like he pitied him, but also like he was a little confused, wary of him.

He dragged James into the living room and sat him down in front of the fire, his mouth agape. But he didn't look shocked beyond belief, like James, and he certainly wasn't sharing in James' pain. He looked sympathetic, but at the same time, he looked a little disgruntled.

"You better explain," he muttered, sighing heavily and raking his fingers through his shaggy hair. James frowned at him, sure he wasn't imagining the terse quality to his best friend's voice, or the slight exasperation in his expression.

Still sitting at the window, Remus had looked up and was peering over at them curiously, his brow furrowed. "What's going on?" he said groggily.

James opened his mouth to ask Remus how he was feeling, but Sirius cut across him. "Lily's getting married," he informed him in a low voice.

Remus didn't say anything; he merely rose and sat in the armchair opposite James, staring at him sympathetically. After some very persistent prompting from Remus, James gave them a brief explanation – brief for the sole purpose of sparing himself pain – after which the three of them fell silent for a while.

Peter had finished in the shower by now, and by the time he returned to the living room, no one was speaking. He cleared his throat, muttered a few words to Sirius which James didn't catch, and once Sirius gave him an exasperated, clipped reply, he sunk into his chair and fell silent as well, glancing around uncomfortably.

After what seemed like an age, the silence became too overwhelming, and James jumped to his feet, throwing his half finished glass into the fire. "How could she do this?" he yelled, while the other three jumped as the alcohol in the glass incensed the fire further. Immediately Remus looked grim and Sirius sighed, shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"How could she fucking do this to me?" James carried on, pulling at his hair and gazing around him frantically like he was searching for an answer.

Sirius didn't look very impressed now. "What do you mean 'to you'?" he questioned, raising one eyebrow.

James glared at him. "Me, I'm her best friend, and she – she just –"

"Hey, I know you're upset, and I'm sorry, but she didn't owe you anything," Sirius said quickly, eyeing him with a look of mingled pity and irritation.

"What are you talking about?" James snapped, rounding on him.

Sirius took a deep breath, looking a bit remorseful. "Look James, maybe she did this to you because she wants to marry him, and it's not like you were together. She doesn't even know how you feel, so why are you blaming her?"

"Of course she knows!" he replied desperately, sinking into the chair again. "How could she not? I'm not exactly discreet."

"Probably thinks she's imagining it," said Remus, his voice steady. "Maybe she'd feel different if you actually told her."

"Well, it's too bloody late for that now, isn't it?" James spat, wishing now he hadn't thrown his drink away.

"Oi." Sirius' voice was harsh. "I know this is a pretty appalling situation, but don't take it out on us! We're on your side."

"Clearly not," James snarled. He'd regret it later, he knew, but after spending twenty-four hours wallowing in depression, he was ready to be angry, and he didn't care who he was taking it out on. "I'm going to bed," he announced maliciously.

"It's half eight," said Peter, raising one eyebrow apprehensively.

James ignored him, slamming the door to his room once he'd stalked out of the living room. He buried his still damp head in the pillow without bothering to undress, now longing for the rain again, and fell into a fitful, uneasy sleep.

XXX

Two days before Christmas Eve was very late for an Order meeting, in James opinion. Only about half of the members had managed to get there, as the message was sent out very late. It had been a particularly grim meeting, what with Christmas looming and things getting more and more difficult for them.

Lily and James had been told they were doing surveillance work, the following night, which was the day before Christmas Eve. It was clear that this put Lily out – again – but this was what they had signed up for, so she accepted it without a word.

Benjamin – the new member – wasn't allowed get himself into any trouble or do any fighting just yet, so Moody instructed him to tag along with James and Lily. James didn't really understand _why – _there was nothing that complicated about surveillance work, and if you knew how to watch people and wrote down anything unusual, and had accomplished the use of Omnioculars, there was little you could learn from watching someone else do it. But they didn't ask questions in the Order. They just did what they were told.

They were taking over from another pair at around six, which gave James just enough time to go see his parents. He arrived outside his childhood home earlier than he'd meant to, and let himself in, their two house elves descending on him immediately.

"Would Mister James like some treacle tart?"

"Or some pudding? Shall we prepare your bedroom, Mister James?"

They took his coat and followed him into the kitchen. "What? Oh, no, thank you, Isa. I'm sure you've got plenty to do, don't let me disturb you." He grinned at the two elves, who stopped themselves just before they stooped into a low bow for him. That had always made him uncomfortable.

"Mum?" James called, as he dropped into the chair at the table, heaving a sigh.

Isa brought him a tray of food, even though he'd told her not to, balancing it on top of her head and leaving it on the table. He thanked her just as his mother entered from the back garden, throwing a pair of gardening gloves on the counter near the door.

"James! I didn't expect you until tomorrow," she said delightedly, sweeping around the room to kiss his forehead. "No Lily today?"

"No, no, she's busy, there was some sort of . . . emergency, I don't know," he informed her, shaking his head. "She sends her apologies and her love, along with these," he muttered, brandishing two neatly wrapped parcels. "And promises to visit soon."

"That girl, she's such a sweetheart," she said, sighing wistfully as she picked up the presents and gave them to Queeky, the other house elf to put them under the tree. "I hope you didn't _tell _her to buy those, did you?" she added sternly.

"Mum, of course not!" he retorted defensively. "Lily just happens to have a heart of gold, that's all."

"Oh, don't I know it?" she chuckled, shaking her head and placing a cup of tea in front of him. "How is she?"

He paused with the cup halfway to his mouth, blinking. He couldn't tell her. Saying it out loud to his mother made it true.

"She's fine," he told her, nodding and taking a hasty sip of tea. "Just busy, that's all. Order stuff."

His mother's face fell instantly. "Oh, Merlin, you two are being careful, aren't you?" she said worriedly, gripping the cup with both hands. "I worry about you so much, you know, out there fighting and nearly getting yourself –"

"Mum," he cut across her, laughing. "I'm fine, see? Better than ever. We're keeping safe, I promise you."

She sighed again, shaking her head. "Just make sure you're careful, sweetheart," she told him sadly. "You're the only son I have."

"I know, I know," he said, rolling his eyes good naturedly and grinning at her.

She stirred her tea absentmindedly for a second. "So is Lily still seeing this . . . what did you say his name was again?"

"I didn't," James said quickly, nearly choking on his tea, his voice coming out a little raspy.

"Well, what is it?"

"Er – Bill."

"Bill?"

"Yeah, she is," he said brusquely. "They're – er, doing really well."

She was quiet for another minute. "You know, the Ashworths were over last week, their daughter's in the Order, isn't she?"

James frowned in thought, his mind too full to be preoccupied by such an inane question. "Erm. What's her name again?"

"It's – hang on, I don't want to tell you the wrong name," she muttered, shaking her head and standing in the doorway to the kitchen. "Nathaniel! What's the Ashworths' daughter's name again? The young one, the blonde?"

"Victoria," came his father's reply, from somewhere in the house.

"Victoria," repeated his mother, shaking her head again. "She's a really lovely girl, just as lovely as Lily, if you don't mind me saying, and she's –"

He stood up, having drained his tea, and took his mother by the shoulders, laughing at her. "Mum, I see where you're going with this," he said. "And I really don't need it. I don't want a girlfriend."

"Or you don't want a girlfriend who isn't –"

"Let's not go there, shall we?" he cut across her cheerfully. "I'm happy as I am." Lie.

"Are you sure, James, because she _is _your best friend, and she is seeing someone, and there's no point –"

"I know, I know," he interrupted her again, pushing down a flicker of irritation. "Really, everything's fine. I'm happy, she's happy, we're all happy."

She stared up at him – he had grown so much taller than she was – and searched his face, her eyebrows knitted together with concern. "Well, you know that's all I want for you," she said finally, patting his cheek. "And as long as you're happy, I'll believe you. I just don't want you to waste your life over someone who doesn't . . ."

"Yeah," he said quickly; there was no need for her to finish that sentence. "I get it. Don't worry. I've actually got to run, Order stuff."

She nodded again, her shoulders sagging at the words. He kissed her cheek and grinned. "I'll see you the day after tomorrow, okay?"

She nodded, smiling up at him weakly. "And wear a nice shirt - it's Christmas, for goodness' sake."

XXX

The ring glistened in the dim light; and even a person as blinded by love as James – or as stubborn as he was – couldn't deny that it was beautiful. It was a thin silver band with a large emerald in a square. At each corner was a tiny diamond as a frame, and to anyone who didn't know Lily, it would have been perfect.

But he did know Lily. And it was wrong, it felt so inherently wrong. Of course, a large part of that was that he still wasn't able to stomach the sight of it on her finger. It gave James a genuine physical and alarmingly high feeling of unease to even be looking at it. It was deeply disconcerting, because it was so completely against his very nature to look at a ring on her finger that he hadn't bought himself.

But it was more than that. This ring wasn't Lily. For a start, he'd made the idiot mistake of thinking that her birthstone was an emerald, when it was a _bloody garnet, _something Lily had once laughed about and told him was quite appropriate for her.

Will had said it matched her eyes, but the dim jewel was nothing – absolutely nothing – compared to the rich, illuminating deep green of her eyes. As the thought crossed over his mind, he mentally cursed himself. Sirius would have smacked him if he knew that James had thought something so soppy, but he couldn't help it anymore.

He had kept his emotions, his thoughts and every word he intended to speak, on a very tight leash, because his friendship with Lily meant more to him than anything, except perhaps his friendship with Sirius. He didn't want to ruin it - even it did mean that he never told her how he felt. And there was also the fact that if he spoke his mind, his mates would have grown fed up of him by now. Soft, Sirius would have called him.

But this was more than James being dramatic as he normally was: this was a gut feeling that he couldn't shake. He kept staring down at the ring, a ring any other man would have nodded at and pretended he had an opinion, and all he could think of was how wrong it felt.

He held her hand in his for far longer than was necessary, enduring the growing pain and the way his stomach twisted unpleasantly as he inspected it, simply because he was holding her hand, and it was warm and comforting, and made him feel at home. He knew that her hand belonged in his, and he didn't know if he'd ever get to hold it again.

Besides, Lily didn't seem to mind at all. The Headquarters was quiet, since it was late enough, enough for the fire to have dwindled to smouldering embers. It was only the two of them, cramped and squashed together on the tiny sofa in the living room, the one that was slightly less unpleasant than the rest of the house.

They were waiting to give their report to Mad-Eye ("No activity, went to work, one visitor, looked like a relative.") but he had gotten delayed dealing with a disturbance in the Ministry.

They were instructed to wait, as this was an important figure they were tailing. So they waited, curled up on the couch, which was small enough to allow them to sit so close together. Lily's arm was pressed against his, and he could feel the heat from her body, her deep steady breathing. James liked that feeling – it reminded him that she was so very alive, and here with him, where she should be.

He would have been happy to have been told neither could ever move again, because the sensations it was sending through his body were delightful and electrifying and paralyzing and painful, all at once.

He had told Benjy that he might as well head home, as they didn't know how long Moody could be. It had been his first time out on any kind of task for the Order, and he was eager to see what a report went like. James had told him word for word what he planned to say, and Lily had explained that there wouldn't be anything more than that, and Benjy had conceded to get himself home after that.

This suited James perfectly. He liked being alone with Lily, even if they weren't talking, like now. He'd rather they were, because it left a space for him to dwell on his thoughts, and the inescapable knowledge that his feelings would never change or fade, and he would suffer through this every time he looked at her.

But it didn't matter at the moment. If he could have bottled up this moment, and take it out and live it again when he most needed it, he would have done anything to be able to do it.

Eventually, after he had been gazing down at the ring, the stone flickering with the fire, Lily cleared her throat. "So what do you think?" she asked softly.

He thought carefully, before shrugging. "It's not bad."

"Not bad?" Lily repeated, nudging his shoulder with hers playfully. "It's my engagement ring."

"And it's not bad," James said again, smiling at her. "The ring I got you for your birthday was much nicer."

Lily perked up, sitting a little straighter and digging in her bag. "Speaking of presents," she said cheerfully, brandishing an average-sized, immaculately-wrapped parcel, topped off with an expertly tied ribbon.

He laughed, pushing himself up too and shaking his head. "I thought we agreed we weren't doing presents this year," he reminded her, making her flush.

"I know," she said thoughtfully. "But you're my best friend, it didn't seem right." She waved her hand dismissively, a broad grin on her face. Why was she – _how _could she smile at him like that? "Come on, open it."

"It's not Christmas yet, Lil," he teased.

"It's two days away, so open your damn present," she retorted, bouncing where she sat with impatience.

"Alright, alright," he laughed, beginning the annual chore that was figuring out how to unwrap Lily's gifts. "It better not be gloves, or so help me, Evans . . ."

"It's not," she said brightly. "Well, alright, it's not _just _gloves . . ."

He chuckled as he managed to make a tear in the paper, and proceeded to tear the rest of the wrapping off. There was a box, inside which were – as he'd guessed – a pair of gloves, blue this year. There were also two books – one on Quidditch, and one on Defensive Magic that she'd known he'd like. There was also a little box, which he opened cautiously.

"Cufflinks," she supplied, as he blinked down at it. "You know what cufflinks are, don't you? Do you even use cufflinks? There's also a tie, but I thought the cufflinks were nice, see? They're little broomsticks, I thought they were ... funny..." She trailed off nervously, fidgeting with her sleeves.

He stared down at his gift for a few seconds longer before he nodded, looking up at her with a broad smile. He swallowed the lump in his throat as he set the box down, his smile turning playful. "Well," he sighed. "I suppose I'll have to start wearing cufflinks then, shouldn't I?"

She laughed again and hit his shoulder for good measure.

"You know, Evans," he started. "If I'd known you were getting me something, I would have not taken our agreement seriously at all, and got you something."

She shrugged her shoulders, still grinning, but her gaze had now turned back to the fire. "It's alright."

"Now I feel bad," he told her childishly. "Or at least, I _would, _if I hadn't been planning to get you something anyway."

He pulled her present from his coat pocket and handed it to her as casually as he could. She squealed and took it, reaching up to plant a fleeting kiss to his cheek. And without another word, she tucked it safely away in her bag.

"Wh- aren't you going to open it?" he demanded, raising one eyebrow.

"Of course not, Potter," she said brusquely. "You know I have a strict rule about opening presents."

"But you made me open mine!" he protested, glowering at her.

"That's because I wanted to see your face when you opened it, silly," she told him sweetly, pinching his cheek. He batted her hand away, rolling his eyes.

"And you don't think I want to see yours?"

"You've seen my face plenty."

"And I don't suppose I'll see you on Christmas, will I?" he asked, only slightly dejectedly.

She wrinkled her nose in thought and held out her hand to inspect her ring again. "Dunno. We're going to Will's parents' tomorrow for dinner, and then I'm going home to my parents on Christmas Day, and then the day after that Will's having dinner at my parents' house, and then we're – erm, joining the families the day after," she said uncertainly.

He plastered an uneasy smile on his face. "Well, isn't that what a marriage is all about?"

She blinked, staring into space for a few seconds with a small frown. "Funny, I thought it was about love."

He rolled his eyes. "Please, Evans, I may vomit."

She looked up at him and smiled slightly, waggling her finger in front of his face. "Are you going to start calling me '_Ardern' _after I'm married?"

"Absolutely not," James replied without a moment's hesitation. "You will always be Lily Evans. No matter who you marry."

She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again, looking down at the ring. She was quiet for a few seconds before she spoke again. "So what's wrong with it? The ring?" she asked.

"Nothing," he replied simply. "It's just not . . . you."

"Of course not, it's an inanimate object."

"It's not your style. It doesn't suit you. It doesn't belong."

"I think it's nice . . ." she said uncertainly, frowning down at the silver band.

"Oh yeah, like that proposal was nice?" James muttered glumly, rolling his eyes again. He was surprised to see that Lily managed a small smile at that.

"Oh. Well. That was very Will, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I know, because it wasn't you."

"You don't like how he proposed?" she said conversationally, but there was a dangerous glint in her eyes. Maybe it was the firelight.

"Not at all. Maybe another girl would have loved it, but I know you, and if you only get one proposal in your life, you deserved it done right. That wasn't right. Not for you."

"So what is right?"

He was silent. Lily sat up on her knees and prodded his arm, giggling. "Come on, Potter. Think you know better?"

"Yes," he snorted, before he thought.

"Well, go on then," she teased. "How would _you _have done it, if you were the one doing it?"

He stared back at her for a few seconds, dumbfounded, and then shook his head. "Shut up, Evans, that's just stupid –"

She laughed again, cutting across him. "Well, if you know so well, tell me. How _should _my engagement have happened?"

He heaved a sigh, his cheeks flushing a violent red, and he avoided her eyes. "You really want to know."

"Can't you see I'm dying over here?" came her wry response.

He glared for a second, scratching his stubbly chin as he thought. "Nah, I don't want to tell you," he muttered gruffly.

"Oh, come on," she pleaded, her laugh bubbling from her mouth and filling the whole room. "Please? I swear I'm actually interested."

He shook his head again, watching her with a grim smile, and reluctantly started talking.

"Well, Evans, I'd do it properly, you know," he said boldly, holding up a finger to stop her from cutting in. "You really want to know? Then I'll tell you. Just don't fall at my feet in awe when I'm finished," he added, his air of bravado exaggerated.

She nodded, chuckling with amusement.

"Well . . . It would be a lot more private than that, that's one thing. I'd take you up the roof of my flat building – and I know that doesn't sound too great, but it's actually really nice up there, and I know you don't like the building, but you do love the roof, I know that much. And it's the perfect place, because it's the best place in the city to see the stars, and for some reason, you really love those stars, so I'd want you to be able to see them.

"And I'd dress it up a bit, I'd say. Fairy lights – only not those rubbish Muggle things you call fairy lights – real fairy lights, held by _real _fairies. And cherry blossoms," he said with a decisive nod. "There'd be a little table for two with a cherry blossom and there'd probably be petals or something all over the place, I dunno."

He did know. It just sounded less pathetic to his own ears when he said he didn't.

"Because they're your favourite flower." He took a deep breath after that, thinking. "And it would be pretty fancy, but at the same time it would be just the two of us on the roof, and it would be all . . . natural, I suppose. And I'd have stolen your – what do you call it? – vinyl player, because it would make you laugh, and I'd have your favourite records, I think I remember which ones are your favourite, and I'd be playing them in the background." He was rambling now, the words tumbling out of his mouth unconsciously while he pictured the scene perfectly. The smile had faded from Lily's face, and she was watching him with a sombre expression.

"And we'd watch the stars for a while, because you never get tired of it. And then we'd have dinner. And then –" he chuckled, grimacing with embarrassment. "Then your favourite song would come on, so I'd pull you up and you'd complain and moan but eventually I'd get you to dance with me, and even though you'd tell me you didn't want to, we'd both know you secretly love it."

That evoked a small chuckle from the pair of them, but it was nervous, unsure, and they both gulped afterwards.

"And – erm," – he scratched the back of his head absentmindedly, his glasses slipping down his nose and his face growing steadily beetroot – "Well, while we were, I'd do that thing you told me about in all the Muggle films, where they, like, dip you back and kiss you? Yeah, you always thought that was pretty cool, and I don't know why, but you like it, so." He shrugged, taking a deep breath, and continued.

"And then we'd sit down again, and I'd start talking, I suppose. And I'd tell you all the things you're supposed to, how you're the one and I'd do anything to make you happy, and I'd spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy, and I'd give you everything I had because I loved you so much, and seeing you smile was enough to make my entire life worthwhile, and . . . something like that," he finished lamely, waving his hand dismissively. "You didn't give me time to work on a speech," she added teasingly, risking a glance up at her. He'd been speaking to his knees.

Her face was much closer to his now, her lips slightly parted in surprise, and she was staring up at him. One corner of her mouth curved up softly, but apart from that, she just carried on gazing at him, her eyes flickering with the reflection of the fire rather like the way his insides were. He took a pause there, and she rested her forehead against his, a perilous action really. He had to close his eyes, that bitter taste filling his tongue again.

"And then I'd . . . get down on one knee," he said slowly, his voice growing considerably smaller. "And ask you to marry me. I'd probably be able to get the words out eventually," he joked weakly, taking a heavy breath and regretting it moments later.

"And –" she paused to clear her throat, as her voice had come out as nothing but a husky, hoarse whisper. "What about the ring?" she asked, blinking at him.

He just shrugged his shoulders. "Ah, I dunno, Evans. I'd know the perfect ring when I'd see it. I'd just . . . _know. _And I'll tell you one thing, it would definitely not be _square."_

She didn't reply. She didn't laugh like she had earlier; she didn't scowl playfully at the subtle jibe. She just closed her eyes like she was in deep thought, and James wished he hadn't opened his mouth at all.

They were both quiet for a very long time. James opened his mouth to speak several times, but found he could not. She was still resting her forehead on his head, and his body was now paralyzed, so that even if moving away had crossed his mind, he wouldn't have been able to do it. He couldn't move, he couldn't think; in fact, he was having enough trouble with breathing.

His stomach was twisted into tight knots with anxiety and confusion. His nerves were shot, his skin was searing, and he was fidgeting awkwardly with one sleeve, unravelling a loose thread and gulping. His face was hot, and he let his eyes fall closed too, because he couldn't take the bouts of electric energy shooting all over his body, and he was hoping to save himself some embarrassment.

For a while, the only things he was aware of was the soft crackling of the fire and her deep, steady breathing, her body so close to his. Eventually, he knew that he would have to pull away from her. She seemed so relaxed, so content, and the process of thought had come to a grinding halt in his head. What was she waiting for?

It was quite strange, how comfortable they both seemed. After all, there was a ring on her finger, and it didn't belong to him. But she didn't move away, and she didn't seem to want to, and James couldn't bring himself to do it first. For a wonderful, fleeting moment, he thought that maybe she was falling in love with him, and she was so quiet because she was working through her feelings. That would explain why she felt the need to be so close to him, without realizing that his skin was burning and he was holding his breath. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world, but at the same time, he wished more than anything to not have her skin touching his. It hurt. Or rather, he wished he wasn't so affected when she did (which wasn't too often, but on her darker days, this wasn't uncommon) and he could be with her without such complexities.

He let out a breath shakily, terrified to disturb her, and without thinking, he lifted his hand to her cheek, his thumb brushing across her cheekbone. He watched her eyelids flicker in surprise before they settled down again, and she let out a relaxed sigh.

If there was any moment, this was it.

He craved to ask her what she was thinking, or why she was so quiet. He didn't feel any different, and it wasn't like they had never been this close before. He remembered the night her father died, and he'd held her in his arms all night while she cried, her face pressed into his neck or chest, and once she'd quietened down enough to talk, she'd rested her forehead against his, just like she had now, for comfort while she spoke. It seemed to work.

"Lily . . ." he began, frowning slightly. He tried for a moment to find words, but she hadn't even responded. He opened his mouth again, because he knew he had to say something. He had to break this spell - this comfortable silence that had descended between them, a little bubble where no one else could reach them, where they were all that mattered and the only two people in the entire world, and they were both happy and at ease with each other. Because that was not his reality, and if he couldn't have it forever, he wouldn't allow himself to have it at all, not even for a few moments, just to have it taken away from him again.

Just as her eyes flickered open and she opened her mouth to speak, the delicate veil that separated them from the rest of the world was torn down. There was a sharp crack which made them both jump and jerk away from each other as they looked around, both groping for their wands. Moody stood before them, hair damp from the sleet outside and looking a little more deranged than usual, completely unaware that he had just intruded on anything special.

"Ah, Potter, Evans," he said gruffly, hobbling to the nearest chair and all but collapsing in it. "I forgot about you. Well?" he barked.

"Nothing to report," said James quickly, quelling his aggravation towards the older man. Quickly, he went through what had happened, exactly what he'd told Benjy he'd say.

"Good," Moody grumbled, fumbling his pockets for something. "Well, you'd best be off, the both of yeh."

They bid him goodnight (and Lily, Merry Christmas) and stood up to leave. When James glanced around at Lily, she looked natural, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. They Apparated to her flat, and James watched her go inside, back to the fiancé waiting for her.

* * *

Tune in next time for more angst and ramblings! Please please please drop me a review and let me know what you think, and hopefully the next update won't take as long. Thanks for reading!


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